Today, my friend is a father
Yesterday, my father was my friend
Who left leaving maroon traces on my saffron skin.
Through many lives we’ve loved and hated
As friends do and don’t
Forgetting, missing, remembering.
It was under a tree with leaves frail like brittle bones
Or on a dusty street
Where the wind blurs the sharpness of the lonely soul’s features
That we tried to squeeze each other to death
To wake ourselves up
To urge ourselves on
To continue the wrenching journey
To come back and forth
Between the fortune and misfortune of living
We learned that the journey is longer
Than just measured distance
On the face time.
We’ve left markers behind to breathe
Our memories with random rhythm.
We drop tears in order to be there again
Forgetting, missing, remembering.

We’ve left traces, behind.

And on this anniversary
That marks another time
There will be tears
Of joy, confusion, serenity, love,
Resilience, anger, affection,
Forgetting, missing, remembering.
Tears that will be.
Tears that just are.
Tears that will dry,
Leaving salty traces.